


Cockblocked, lovelocked

by MoraMew



Series: Knife at your throat, Heart in your Hand [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Choking, Light glove kink, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mob AU, Possessive Oikawa, Violence, light blood kink, undercover cop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 12:07:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12840837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoraMew/pseuds/MoraMew
Summary: Suga loves Oikawa like this. Blood on his cheek, knife in one hand and a gun in the other- Oikawa looks damn good with threats spilling from his lips and danger in his eyes.





	Cockblocked, lovelocked

**Author's Note:**

> quick oisuga for the mob au. i want to write proper smut for the series soon but have this for now

Suga loves Oikawa like this. Blood on his cheek, knife in one hand and a gun in the other- Oikawa looks damn good with threats spilling from his lips and danger in his eyes.  
  
“Now, Sato-chan,” Oikawa purrs, dragging the tip of the knife along a scruffy jawline. “I’m a generous man. I’m going to let you choose your fate. We can either go nice and slow, make this an intimate affair with just you, me, my knife and my kitten playing for hours and _hours-_ ”  
  
A knick of the blade along the traitor's face, a sudden dripping of scarlet. It sends a shiver down Suga’s spine to watch it fall, makes him lick his lips in anticipation when the man lets out a strangled cry from behind his gag.  
  
“-Or we can end this nice and quick with a bullet through your worthless brains,” Oikawa continues on almost lazily, pressing the barrel of the gun against a sweaty temple. “It’s your choice. You’ll die either way, of course. Traitors don’t get to live. But- and this is all up to you- you _can_ decide if you want to suffer a little or be snuffed out in the blink of an eye. It all depends on if you’re willing to sell out your buyer as easily as you sold out _me_.”  
  
Suga presses his lips together at the growl in Oikawa’s voice and tries to focus on the task at hand instead of the sharp glint in his lover’s eyes, how rough his voice gets.  
  
Though, god, is it hard when he sounds so _good_.  
  
Oikawa flicks his eyes up to Suga and Suga nods, stepping forward and placing his hands on the bastard’s shoulders. There’s a flinch from him and Suga takes satisfaction in the movement, leans down to whisper in his ear as his fingers undo the knot of the gag.  
  
“I’d go with the bullet if I were you,” Suga tells him. “It’s been awhile since the boss and I have been able to play together like this. You could be our toy for _days_ with all the plans we have in store.”  
  
Suga can almost swear that it’s a whimper that escapes from the man right before he pulls the gag out from his mouth.  
  
A cough, a choked noise of fear, and then the usual begging sounds.  
  
“Oi-Oikawa-sama, _please_ ,” Sato pleads, frantic. “I- I- they said if I didn’t sell them that I-”  
  
“I don’t care for your excuses,” Oikawa interrupts with an overly sweet smile. “Give me the name or get ready for me to slice your fingers off at each knuckle joint while Suga-chan films it.”  
  
There’s a half-sob after that, Sato shaking. He’s pissed his pants when Suga looks down to check and it’s enough to make Suga want to roll his eyes.  
  
Honestly. They’re better off losing this one anyway.  
  
“Oikawa-sama, boss, sir, _please-_ ”  
  
Oikawa’s eyes narrow and pretty lips twist into a snarl, the barrel of the gun pressing more tightly against the traitor’s temple. Suga clicks his tongue and buries his hand into sweat drenched hair, pulls on black locks tight and makes the man yelp.  
  
“You really want to test his patience?” Suga asks with a sigh.  
  
“I think he’s a glutton for punishment,” Oikawa practically hisses out. “I wonder how long he could stay alive if I flayed his face off.”  
  
“Oooh, now that sounds like a fun experiment,” Suga coos. He grips Sato’s hair tighter and pulls so thin strands snap between his fingers, so the man gasps out in pain. “What do you think, Sato-kun? Wanna be our test subject?”  
  
“Fuck. Fuckfuck _fuck_ ,” Sato whispers out, voice pitched high and nervous. “I- I-”  
  
“We’re waiting,” Suga purrs, pulling tighter.  
  
A moan and a moment of quiet, tears slipping down paled cheeks.  
  
“...Ot…Ota Aka...Ota Akahiro. From...from Kakugawa, Sato manages, broken and choked.  
  
A loud bang and then there’s blood and gore splattered onto the floor, a ringing in Suga’s ears. He lets Sato’s hair go and the corpse’s head slumps down, scarlet leaking down onto his suit.  
  
“He sold _me_ out- he sold the _girls_ out- to _Kakugawa_? I don’t know whether to laugh or kill his brother too for the offense,” Oikawa huffs out.  
  
He unloads another bullet into Sato’s crotch to show off his aggravation and then steps away with a frustrated noise, snapping his knife shut and then running a hand through his hair. Suga watches the movement with interest, eyes trailing after a gloved hand without shame.  
  
“Daichan, Kyouken-chan” Oikawa calls out with a snap, “take this traitor to the incinerator. And then go tell Iwa-chan that we need to pay Kakugawa a visit.”  
  
Daichi steps out from his post and Suga allows himself to glance over at the undercover cop and study him as the man walks over. He looks impassive, as usual, and it’s honestly a little disappointing. Suga keeps waiting for him to turn pale or green but he’s steady as a rock, almost unflappable when it comes to the killings.  
  
Which is to be expected, Suga supposes, of a mole.  
  
Suga hums to himself and offers a smile to Kyoutani before shifting his focus back onto Oikawa. He’s walked over to the couch and sat himself down, glaring moodily at the brains marring the marble of the floor. Oikawa’s pissed and it’s easy to see but he’s gorgeous with it, too- all long limbs and beautiful violence, leather shoulder holsters and dark eyes.  
  
He’s so pretty when he’s like this and Suga just can’t resist.  
  
He waits, at least, until Daichi and Kyoutani have dragged the corpse out of the room before walking over to him. Oikawa looks up with an angry pout when Suga stops in front of him and reaches a hand out, fists the shirt of Suga’s suit and pulls him forward until Suga perches himself on his lap.  
  
“My ego is _wounded_ ,” Oikawa grumbles, still gloved hands moving to grasp at Suga’s waist. Suga pushes off his suit jacket to provide better access and Oikawa squeezes at him tight, digs his fingers in so Suga will bruise. “ _Kakugawa_ ? He could have at least spared me the dignity of betraying me to someone _worthwhile_. Do people not fear me anymore?”  
  
Suga hums at the complaints and runs his hands over Oikawa’s chest and up to his shoulders, gives them a squeeze.  
  
“Maybe you should remind everyone why you’re the one in charge,” Suga suggests, murmuring the words almost absently as he begins to knead Oikawa’s shoulders. “You should make an example of that third rate syndicate and paint the town red with their blood.”  
  
Oikawa hums and tilts his head back a bit, a quiet groan leaving him when Suga massages him a little more firmly. His lashes draw shut with the movement and Oikawa pulls Suga a bit closer, slips his hands down to toy with his belt loops.  
  
“It’s been awhile since I’ve shown that sort of public aggression,” Oikawa sighs out. “It might be needed.”  
  
“It could be fun,” Suga encourages quietly, dipping a hand to unbutton Oikawa’s shirt so he can slip his hands underneath. “Like with that two-bit Russian syndicate that tried to weasel in on the docks.”  
  
Oikawa’s breath hitches at the reminder of that little extermination and his eyes open about half-way, his tongue darts out to wet his lips.  
  
“That was the first time I got to watch you snap someone’s neck in person,” Oikawa says, almost a little breathless. Suga smiles at that and Oikawa groans, hands moving back to squeeze at Suga’s hips. “You were so fucking pretty. So ruthless. My starlight, all drenched in blood and making everyone cry out in fear…”  
  
Oikawa trails off and licks his lips again, eyes going sharp and cold.  
  
“My starlight would never betray me like that bastard,” Oikawa hums, words soft and dangerous. His hands move up Suga’s chest and cup at his neck, thumb smoothing over his throat. The feel of the leather makes Suga melt a little and breath in a bit deeper than needed. “Would you?”  
  
Ah, and here it is- the paranoia and possessiveness Suga’s been waiting for.  
  
Suga lets his lashes lower and shakes his head the best he can, heady desire already slowly snaking its way through him.  
  
“Never,” Suga murmurs to him. “I’d never betray you.”  
  
“Because you’re _mine_ ,” Oikawa says softly, circling his hands and starting to squeeze. “ _My_ Koushi. _My_ starlight. _My_ kitten. Right?”  
  
Suga moans quietly and presses into Oikawa’s touch, nods and tries not to whine. It’s too early in it to drop that low; he’ll save the neediness for when Oikawa has him bent over the desk. No need to give his ego that stroke just yet.  
  
Oikawa licks his lips again and then truly begins to choke him, eyes getting darker and darker as Suga takes it happily- pliant and slack except for how he tries to press tighter against Oikawa’s palm.  
  
He’s getting hard already and he knows Oikawa can tell by the way he smiles.  
  
“Good kitten,” Oikawa coos to him, smile turning nearly manic when Suga begins to gasp for air and tries to blink away the spots dotting his vision. Suga still doesn’t move away and Oikawa keeps choking him until the point of passing out, only letting go when Suga’s lashes flutter with the threat of a swoon. “So _good_ for me.”  
  
He lets go and Suga _does_ whine a little then, slumping toward him and curling his fingers into Oikawa’s shirt. Oikawa hums his contentment and runs a hand up a little higher, grips Suga’s jaw too tight.  
  
“I want to give you another mark,” Oikawa tells him, voice heavy with the thought. “Maybe a scar around your neck like a collar? It could be so pretty.”  
  
And now Oikawa is hard, too.  
  
Suga grinds against him to show his approval of the idea and Oikawa groans, hand moving from Suga’s jaw to run through his hair instead, tug on it tight.  
  
“Maybe you and Kyouken-chan both,” Oikawa murmurs, wrenching Suga’s head back to bare his throat. A thrill tingles down Suga’s spine and he breathes in a little shakily, tilting his head so Oikawa’s fingers pull on his locks. “Iwa-chan probably wouldn’t be happy to have one around his neck. I could give him a special one…”  
  
Suga gets maybe a moment of envy before Oikawa bites into his throat. A gasp and then a moan leaves him and Oikawa’s teeth dig in deeper, threatening to break the skin as Suga rocks his hips against him. The pain is so _delicious_ and so, so _good_ and Suga could swear he could get off just from the way Oikawa growls his name against his neck.  
  
He’s just about to ask Oikawa if he wants to fuck him when there’s a knock on the door.  
  
Suga huffs, Oikawa huffs. There’s an annoyed tug of Oikawa’s fingers in Suga’s hair that leaves him wanting to groan and a nimble movement of his free fingers, digits working Suga’s belt loose.  
  
“Come in,” Oikawa calls out, clearly aggravated with the interruption.  
  
The door opens up and Matsukawa waltzes in without a second of hesitation, waving a manilla folder and smirking when Suga sends him an annoyed pout.  
  
“Was I interrupting?” he asks, almost smug with it.  
  
Oikawa huffs again and lets go of Suga’s hair to point at his desk, his other fingers sliding Suga’s belt from his pants.  
  
“You _always_ interrupt,” Oikawa grumbles, peevish as he loops the belt around itself and snaps it. There’s a _crack_ that rips through the air that leaves Suga wanting to squirm, impatient and excited. “This better be good.”  
  
“Yeah, Shiratorizawa bullshit is always good,” Matsukawa tells him, unruffled and sighing.  
  
“ _What_?” Oikawa asks, voice sharp.  
  
Oh, god dammit.  
  
Suga huffs and moves from Oikawa’s lap so his lover can stalk over and snatch the folder from Matsukawa’s hand. He glares at it and Matsukawa offers a wry smile, almost apologetic before he focuses his attention on Oikawa’s question.  
  
Of course _Ushijima_ would somehow manage to cockblock him.  
  
Suga pouts and runs his hand through his hair before standing up, walking over to Oikawa and peeking over his shoulder as he rifles through the documents Matsukawa has gathered. He frowns at the photos and nearly reaches a hand out to pick them up and study them himself, just barely restrains himself from doing so.  
  
“That _asshole_ ,” Oikawa hisses, clutches the folder so tight his fingers crumple the material. “ _Shit_. Koushi- go get Hajime.”  
  
First names. It must be a troublesome affair then.  
  
Suga sighs but nods, leans over and gives Oikawa a quick kiss to his cheek before turning to leave.  
  
His cock is still hard and he’s still hungry for Oikawa’s hands around his throat but there’s work to do. He can’t play hard if he doesn’t work hard.  
  
...it’s still annoying, though.  
  
Suga sighs again and leaves the room with a frown, stepping onto hunks of brain matter and trailing blood throughout the house.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi and hello on [my tumblr](https://moramew.tumblr.com/)~


End file.
